Moving On
by Gizzi1213
Summary: Greg and Sara, post-episode for “Weeping Willows.” A follow up to "Commitment" Sara’s having some difficulties adjusting to the changes in her relationship with Greg.


Title: Moving On

Rating: K

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine; I'm just taking them out to play.

Warnings :None

Pairings: Greg/Sara

Spoilers: Through Season 5

Summary: Greg and Sara, post-episode for "Weeping Willows." Sara's having some difficulties adjusting to the changes in her relationship with Greg.

AN: This is Part 2 of what has become the "Commitment" Series. You don't have to have read that one first, but it wouldn't hurt. (This is otherwise known as "shameless self-promotion.")

AN2: Again, thanks to Tripp3235 for the beta!

* * *

The diner was especially crowded this morning, the clinking of dishes and silverware providing an atonal background score to Sara's disinterested perusal of the menu. She was on her second cup of swill that passed for coffee, much to the waitress' annoyance. The waitress wasn't the only one getting annoyed. She's been waiting for a half hour for Greg to join her. They'd been walking out the building when Mia had called him back to speak with him. If something was up at the lab, he should have at least called her to let her know. As shredded napkins strewn across the table indicated, she was barely holding in how irritated she truly was.

"You ready to order yet," Sara looked up at the harried waitress who was tapping impatiently on her order pad.

"I'm sorry. Someone was supposed to join me…"

"Look, I don't have time for your sob story, OK? We're swamped. If your boyfriend has stood you up, either decide to order breakfast without him, or just settle your check. I could use the table."

"What makes you think it's a boyfriend?"

"Honey, I don't see any ring on that finger, and a girl as pretty as you always has a boyfriend. Now, you gonna let him ruin your breakfast by brooding over him, or you going to order? I could really use the table."

"Actually," Sara replied, trying to ignore the implications of brooding over Greg, "I'd love breakfast. I'll have the veggie omelet, no onions, whole wheat toast, unbuttered, and a large glass of orange juice."

"Fine, coming right up."

"Oh, great, I'm just in time to order. You didn't have to wait for me, Sara, but I'm glad you did." Greg graced both women with a large grin as he slid into the booth opposite Sara.

"Where the hell have you been?"

Greg looked up at the sharp tone. "I was at the lab, remember? Mia needed to speak with me." Not wanting to waste anymore time in getting his meal, he turned back to the waitress, "I'll have a tall stack of blueberry pancakes, with a side order of bacon, whole wheat toast, extra butter please, and, huh," reaching across the table he lifted Sara's coffee cup and sniffed at the contents, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the result, "just a large orange juice, please. Thank you."

The waitress was a veteran of relationship disputes played out at her tables. She merely tossed Greg a pitying look as she headed for the kitchens. She couldn't believe he'd admitted he was late due to another woman. It just amazed her how men, all of them, just never seemed to learn.

"Who were you on the phone with?" Greg asked.

"I haven't been on the phone", Sara snapped. "I've been sitting right here looking like a fool about to be stood up."

Greg sat back in his seat, really looking at Sara for the first time since sliding into the booth. He could see the tense set of her shoulders, the anger and hurt lurking behind her dark eyes. Most disturbing of all though was the mulish set to her jaw, the one where she looked like she was grinding her back teeth together. That look, Greg knew, was always an indication that Sara was in a really dark mood.

"Sara, I would never stand you up. I called you; it went right to your voice mail. I thought you were on the phone. Check your messages." He could see she was going to be stubborn. "Check your voice mail."

"I don't need to check my messages, Greg. I believe you."

"Why?" Greg challenged.

"Does it matter? I said I believed you. You called me, I missed hearing the phone. End of discussion." She couldn't help but shift uncomfortably in her seat. It wasn't something she really wanted to go over with Greg.

"I does matter Sara. It matters to me. If this new…thing…between us is going to work, we've got to be able to talk to each other."

"You're right, Greg. OK? You're right."

"It's not about being right or …" he broke off as their waitress returned with their breakfasts. It seemed to Greg that she was trying to catch Sara's eye. Sara, he noticed, was paying undue attention to her omelet.

"Anything else I can get you, honey?" It wasn't lost on Greg that the question was posed to Sara, and only Sara, who simply shook her head in the negative, giving the waitress a half-hearted smile. The waitress, however, wasn't as subtle, shooting Greg a glare before walking off.

"What was that about?" Sara shrugged her shoulders in a classic "I have no idea what you're talking about" gesture, never breaking her concentration on her meal.

"Alright, I've had enough. I don't care for this game, Sara."

"I'm not playing any game…"

"You're right, you're not. Games should be fun and I, for one, am not finding anything fun about this." He threw his fork down onto his plate. "You're obviously upset with me, yet you won't talk to me about it. Maybe I should just leave." He pushed his plate away as he started sliding from the booth.

He didn't get far with her hand grabbing his arm. "Please stay. You're causing a scene."

Greg could see that she was right; eyes were turning in their direction. "No, you are by grabbing me. Let go."

"Only if you stay," Sara tightened her grip when she heard him sigh. "Greg, look, I just… …I…I'm not use to talking things out. I'm better at building walls."

"Walls make very lonely people."

"I'm never lonely when you're around. Don't go...please."

Greg heaved another sigh and slid back into the booth. Awkward silence fell between them as both turned their attention back to their cold breakfasts.

"So…"

"Um…"

Both chuckled as they started speaking at the same time.

"Why were you upset with me?"

"I wasn't upset with you," the denial was out even before he'd finished asking the question. He shook his head and threw his arms up in defeat.

"Ok, maybe I was, a little, at first." Greg rolled his eyes at her. "Ok, so maybe it was a little more than a little. Maybe it was, a lot. But I wasn't upset, I was annoyed, in fact, I was just thinking I should call you when the waitress made some …remark."

"The waitress?"

Sara sighed; she really didn't want to get into this. It just wasn't in her nature. But her PEAP counselor had told her she needed to address her emotional issues, not bury them. And Greg certainly never held anything back. It was just so damn hard! "I was sitting here for some time. She came over to take my order, I said I was waiting for someone, she said I shouldn't brood over some boyfriend who stood me up. I was just ordering when you arrived." Sara finished her explanation in a hurried rush, before she could change her mind about saying anything at all. Strangely enough, she felt a sense of relief after getting it all out.

Greg leaned back with a thoughtful look. He was missing something in this explanation, and he knew he wouldn't understand why she'd been so upset until he fit the pieces together. Of course, it would take a better CSI than he was to figure out the Sidle puzzle, but he was willing to keep working at it.

"So, if I have this right, you got upset with me because the waitress said I'd stood you up?" She could hear the confusion in his voice.

"No, I got upset when she suggested I was brooding over my boyfriend standing me up."

The pieces finally clicked into place, _brooding_ and _boyfriend_. Actually, he was thrilled that Sara considered him her boyfriend. The nature of their relationship was still undefined. But it was the brooding part that solved the mystery.

"I think I understand it now. She mentioned you brooding over a boyfriend and your thoughts went to Grissom."

"Grissom was never my boyfriend, Greg" was the instant reply.

"Not for lack of trying on your part." He held up a hand to stop the heated response he could see she was ready to launch into. "Let me finish, please, don't interrupt," he had to keep himself from grinning as her stubborn, mulish look made a re-appearance. "It wasn't so much that you were brooding over me, or Grissom. No, you were upset over the idea that I could be as uncaring and indifferent towards your feelings as he always was, causing you to brood over being hurt that way again." He regretted the flash of hurt he saw in her eyes as she turned to stare out the window, but it needed to be said. He reached across the table and took her hand.

"Sara, honey, look at me. Sara, please." Her eyes left the window to settle on the buttons of his shirt. Greg could see that the set to her jaw had proceeded past stubborn all the way to hurt and wounded Sara, but trying hard to mask it. It was a look that always got to him.

"Grissom is a brilliant criminologist, a world renowned entomologist. He has integrity and loyalty. All traits and qualities to be admired. He's also, however, the world's biggest fool."

That got Sara's attention. Her eyes snapped to his, a look of disbelief behind them now. Better than the hurt that was there before, but not the understanding that Greg was looking for.

"Greg…"

"No, no, I said no interrupting. I know, you're thinking I'm disloyal for saying that. But it's the truth. If the man had any sense, he'd have been smart enough to include you in his life. He knew you were interested. How any man could turn you away is beyond me. Maybe you don't like hearing it, but it does make him a fool in my book. You're worth any risk, Sara."

He knew he wasn't playing fair with that comment. Like everyone else in the lab, he'd heard rumors about Grissom's comments to Dr. Lurie. He'd checked out the actual interview tape once he was a CSI. He knew using it against her now wasn't fair, was, in fact, a little mean. He gently shook her hand to get her attention back to him, and not the tabletop she was trying to stare holes through.

"Sara, I know some people think I behave inappropriately, or too immaturely at times. And, at times, they may be right. But I'm not going to stop enjoying life, and that's all I'm doing. So, if you want to retrain your facial muscles on how to smile instead of frown all the time, I'm your guy. But if you like frowning, well, there's always Grissom. It's your choice, Sara. All I want is for you to be happy."

"Greg," she pulled her hand from his and lowered her head into her hands, trying to massage away the headache that was quickly forming. "Look, I don't know if you'll believe me, I wouldn't blame if you didn't, but Grissom really is history. It's just he's five years worth of history, you know? He's been a big part in shaping who I am, or maybe a better way to say it is; who I shaped myself to be because I thought it's what he wanted me to be. I can't change that over night."

"Do you like the person you've molded yourself to be? Are you happy with yourself?"

"Now you sound like my PEAP counselor."

"And I bet you're trying to avoid answering my questions as much as you tried to avoid the counselor's, but it's not going to work. It's a simple question. Are you happy?"

Sara's headache intensified. It wasn't simple, it was the hardest question ever asked of her. What did she know about being happy? Had she ever been happy as a child? She couldn't remember. She thought there may have been moments of it, but true happiness? She doubted it. As for her personal, and professional, life lately, there had been little or no happiness there for some time. Except for Greg.

"It seems to be a lesson I have to keep learning. I told you, after the attack, that I felt like I'd finally seen you for the first time in five years. I did again today, didn't I? I didn't see you because I was lost in the Grissom fog."

"Sara, I can fix the fog problem, no problem."

"Oh really?" Sara couldn't suppress a grin at the devilish look dancing in his dark eyes, "And how do you propose to do that?"

"I'll just have to wear a hat with fog lights built in," he gestured with his hands to demonstrate where the lights would sit just above each ear. He'd expected one of Sara's reluctant grins at his silly antics. He wasn't prepared for the quivering lower lip and the eyes swimming behind unshed tears.

"Sara? I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to make fun of your feelings, just trying to get you to laugh." She was shaking her head at him, dapping at her eyes with bits of a shredded napkin. Greg just sat, like men everywhere, totally at a loss on how to handle a woman's tears.

Sara struggled to pull herself together, knowing her emotional response was upsetting him. "Greg," she paused to take a calming breath, hearing the hitch in her voice, "that may have been the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me!"

If Greg thought he was confused before, it was nothing to the confusion he felt following that unexpected statement.

"It is. Just the thought that you would subject yourself to hat hair for me! How sweet."

Greg couldn't stop himself from checking out his reflection in the window, his hair its usual spiky coif. He tried to picture his cool do crushed flat from a hat. The only scary image that came to mind was what he referred to as his "court look." He didn't even bother hiding the shudder.

"Hat hair? Well, Sara, when you put it like that, how about I just carry a very large flashlight?"

Sara burst out laughing, Greg rolled his eyes at her amusement. Just at that moment, their waitress returned, only then did Greg realize how much time had passed. "Can I get you two anything else?" This time, he noted, the friendly smile took in both of them.

"Actually, yes. If you could take these away," he reached for Sara's plate and passed both long forgotten breakfasts to the waitress, "and bring us a duplicate order? Thank you."

"You got it, honey, coming right up."

Greg turned to Sara. "I'll be right back," and before she could stop him, he slid from the booth. Sara watched him walk away, figuring he was going to the men's room, so she was surprised when she saw him walk out of the diner and get in his car, where he just sat. She was just about to get concerned and go check on him when her phone rang. She didn't answer it, to preoccupied with her observation of Greg. A few moments later, she heard it ring again, this time, thinking it may be work, she absently picked it up.

"Sidle."

"Hey, Sara, it's me. Listen, I've finished with Mia at the lab, and I should be at the diner in a few moments. You're not going to believe what I've got to tell you."

"Greg? What…" he cut her off.

"I'll tell you when I get there. See you soon." The phone went dead in her hand, she stared at it quizzically. When she finally flipped it closed, she noticed Greg walking into the diner again.

"Hey, I'm starved. Is breakfast ordered? I could eat the proverbial horse, huh, no offense."

"Greg, what are you doing?" her confusion was evident.

"WE are starting over. I'm not saying we forget everything we discussed before the phone call, just that it's time to move on, don't you think?" He shifted uneasily in his seat.

Sara contemplated the idea. Greg's suggestion had a simple elegance. It allowed each of them to have aired their feelings and thoughts, yet, at the same time, it also allowed them to leave behind any hard feelings caused during the discussion.

"You're just in time, I just ordered," Sara grinned, falling into her role. "So, tell me what's up at the lab? Mia looked pretty stressed out." She leaned forward, eager to hear the latest lab gossip. Greg was talking excitedly, but she didn't hear a word. She just enjoyed watching his animated storytelling style, not really caring what he was saying. She may be his mentor on the job, but she knew he had much to teach her about living her life. Sara suspected there would be more hurdles along the way, but she was ready to keep moving on with Greg to face them.

The End


End file.
